The Left Turn Ahead

Ok, so let me put this into a crystalline perspective:
It's the early morning hours of the day after Wet Grad. I've been sleeping, for the past 3 hours, on the top bed of a friend of mines camper.
With partial indifference, I observe all 3 of the people I was sleeping with waltz out of the camper at around 5:30 in the morning, and then nod-off again.

When I wake up, still in the same bed, the camper is moving.
Still slightly drunk and high (with the effects of both slowly wearing off, but combining with the hypnotic trance of sleep deprivation) I wake-up from a strange dream, and wonder if I'm still dreaming.
Content that my friends are probably driving the camper, I nod-off once again despite the campers erratic jumps as it lurches over pebbles, sand, and sharp rocks along the make-shift dirt road leading to our destination.

When I wake-up once again, I begin to wonder if the camper has simply rolled away with me inside. I picture the 2 friends of mine still standing at the campsite repeating the words 'oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!' over and over again as they hopelessly mull over what to do to remedy the situation.
This thought... understandably... alarms me, so I climb out from under the bouncing covers and drag myself over to the camper door, about to open it before I stop myself and say- dude, what the fuck. Don't be a fucking idiot. Leave the door alone.

I decide to do a bit of an experiment as to gauge whether the camper has drivers or not, and climb back up to the bed, and open the front curtains.
Up ahead, I see a generally sharp bend.
This is it.

If the camper keeps going straight, and cascades itself into the endless bush ahead, not only is it likely that my life could be over (and just after Grad... what sweet fucking irony that would have been), it's likely that, at this speed, I would come out with at least a couple serious injuries were I still present in the arena of existence.
But if it turns, on the other hand... I have absolutely nothing to worry about, and I can go back to sleep, content in the knowledge that the camper isn't lacking human operation.

The moments leading up to the bend feel like forever, as I subconsciously begin to come to terms with the fact that this may be the end.

At the last second-
The camper turns.
What luck that was.

At this point... I begin to laugh, and berate myself for my intoxicated naivety.
The entire experience was somewhat beautiful, however. It was like something I would read out of a book of existential short stories concerning life and death.

Sometimes, fucking with your brain is the best thing you can do for yourself.
As long as you do so in moderation.

Just remember-
There's probably a driver. So don't worry about it.    

My Bucket List: Part 4

31: Join (or start) a ska band.

32: Get down at least 500 entries on my Bucket List; fulfill each and every one of them.

33: Become a professional poetic freestyler.

34: Learn "To Build a Home" by the Cinematic Orchestra on piano.

35: Become somewhat famous for something or another.

36: Visit Wall Street (and New York City in the process).

37: Visit Israel and whats left of Palestine.

38: Visit a country that is embroiled in revolution; possibly take part in some way, shape, or form.

39: Find a job.

40: Make something I love to do work for me for the rest of my life.

Carpe Diem.

It means…
Make the most of this moment; don’t concern yourself with the future, or the past, or the outcome, or even the consequences because once that future comes to fruition… it becomes your present, and you must make the most of that present. Embrace it. Take every single strand of it and thread together the ‘now.’ Not the then, not the before, and not the after… the ‘now.’

Shatter the latter to the before and after, then take what’s left and sow it all together to create a perfected present that’s pleasant even to the likes of a peasant.

Just make doubly sure you’re presence is felt in this pretentious present,

Because you’re wanted and welcome, in this hypnotic heroic that is everything to you as well as a collective too.

Stage your very own private and personal coup;

Cus you’re due.

My Bucket List: Part 3

21: Have sex in a moving vehicle.

22: Win a slam poetry contest.

23: Live in Europe for a year or two.

24: Attend, and graduate from college.

25: Do extensive travelling with a romantic partner.

26: Explore Siberia.

27: Visit Stonehenge.

28: Get married (and/ or find a life partner/ soul mate... eventually).

29: Have children... eventually.

30: Buy my own computer.

My Bucket List: Part 2

11: Become a part of (or start) a generally successful band.

12: Get my own radio show.

13: Go on an epic road trip to some opposite end of North America with a group of close friends.

14: Climb Mount Everest.

15: Participate in an orgy.

16: Walk from one province to another.

17: Dance and sing on a city street in broad daylight, with hundreds of people walking by and watching me.

18: Busk.

19: Step foot in every country on Earth.

20: Publish some sort of biography.

My Bucket List: Part 1

I will be releasing ten posts which will, all-together, chronicle the first 100 things I have decided to put on my bucket list. Each post will contain 10 additions to the list, and there is a very good chance it will extend into the 3 to 500 range by the time the list is complete- whenever the hell that might be.

So lets get started.

1: Write at least one novel.

2: Visit the Palace of Versailles in France.

3: Release at least one music album.

4: Become a guitar 'virtuoso.'

5: Completely disappear from all of my current contacts- family, best friends, friends, acquaintances- for an entire year whilst living in a strange and new place.

6: Visit (and possibly live in) Denmark.

7: Go clubbing in New York City, Los Angeles, London, and Amsterdam.

8: Release an album of slam-poetry.

9: Get in shape.

10: Become 'enlightened,' in some way, shape, or form.  

On the Shores of the Sun

Exhaustion.
What a curse it is;
Awake yet better asleep,
And barely alive,
You just can't contribute to the great bee-hive of society;
And as we all know,
A working-class hero is something to be.
Yet the sound of a jet in the sky,
Or the silence of a fish in the sea,
Is no longer what seems of intrigue to me.

I'm lusting for an end to this linear life,
As delineated is a rare yet delicious spice;
Otherwise were in a great maze as a puppeteers mice;
And the differential unpredictability never fails to suffice,
Or entice.

So on the shores of the sun I question the rain;
As the sun is omnipotent and other weather insane,
And like a bird, space-ship, or a pilot and plane,
I use gravity as my balancing cane.

Or as the waves lick the shores of our earthly sands,
I walk alone on this beach and rest with a hand-stand,
As I see the clouds down below, and the ground up above;
With all of this strangeness,
I have fallen in love.

The flightier folk find solace in pain,
While I move around dancing in the rain;
And the long stories of life,
Or biography,
Perhaps understanding is always the key.

So question me in my fatigue and see what I say;
If you want the truth,
You can get it today;
I'm exhausted, and the truth is like the moons-ray;
It gives me an excuse to find a place in which to lay.